As a kid, I grew up on a steady diet of The Hardy Boys, Encyclopedia Brown and The Three Investigators books. There was even one occasion where my friends and I did some detective work on the famous “Who Crashed into Judd’s House and then Drove Off” case, but that’s a story for another time.

I thought that my best detective days were behind me, but then the Kid arrived. Now it’s the case of “Where Did the [insert small object name] Go?”

Like just about every other young-un I know, The Kid loves her Cheerios. The Wife and I usually put some number of them on her tray, and watch as she eats them. We try to keep track of how many we give her and how many she eats, just so we have a handle on what her food intake is. It also makes it easier when give instructions to babysitters and grandparents* regarding her normal routine. Lately it seems like she’s eating quite a bit fewer Cheerios than we’re actually giving her. If she’s not eating them, where are they? The Cat won’t eat them, and here are relatively few of them on the floor. Hmmm. It really is a hum-drum conundrum.

Eureka!

Nice to know the old noggin is still working.

*The Wife and I are fully aware that most instructions given to grandparents are read, understood, acknowledged, and then summarily ignored. Isn’t that the purpose of grandparents? As long as the Kid is happy, we don’t really care.